I Think I'll Stay
by clautchy
Summary: Flying. Isn't it a sad word? And Dean can't understand, trying to put the pieces back together of a broken friend, the very friend who had once done the same for him. Ficlet, purgatory.


It was gradual at first, and sometimes not noticeable at all, but he knew it was bound to happen. Letting go. It started with a word. One word. He muttered it under his breath when he thought Dean couldn't hear him. Then when Dean would glance at him, he'd give him his best smile.

_Flying. _Sometimes he would sigh in content when he said it, murmuring it dreamily under his breath with a sense of longing that Dean thought he would never hear, at least definitely not in a place like this. He was fighting for his life on a daily basis and unable to sleep, building traps and creating tactics and searching for food while the angel who had once put him back together broke apart, escaping into his own dream of flying.

Dean had given up on trying to understand. There wasn't much of a point. Castiel was broken and psychoanalysis was hardly Dean's priority when he was busy trying to survive. And he thought that if he just left it, the episode would fade away and Cas would cease to repeat such a meaningless word. All angels could fly, and Castiel was still an angel. Dean always heard the unmistakable sound of flapping wings when Castiel would leave and return to him. Flying wasn't a problem. But why the sudden obsession?

He thought Castiel tried to make him understand once. They were sitting on the damp ground, catching a break that they very much deserved. It was a very one-sided conversation:

"Have you ever wanted to fly, Dean?"

"I prefer the ground. Don't like planes."

Cas smiled at Dean and leant back, resting his weight on his hands and looking up into the black sky, starless and empty, "Before I came to earth, I saw flight as our gift from our Father. It was our own type of freedom; one that could be harnessed."

Dean raised an eyebrow, "What happened after you got to earth, then?"

"It wasn't freedom. You taught me that." He paused, "I don't know what it means. Not nothing. A difference. I think, in contrast, we fly because we are constrained from freedom. Do you see what I'm getting at?"

"Uh, yeah, sure." Dean lied, and he felt guilty but what else was he to say? He didn't like being off the ground himself, but he had watched enough clichéd movies to know that flight was a symbol of freedom and the ability to run away from your consequences. Dean thought it was a load of bullshit but he chose to keep his insight from Castiel.

He thought he would never find out the truth behind Cas' philosophising until they found the stream. Pebbles on the banks and fresh running water breaking the infinite forest, Dean almost convinced himself he was dreaming. He washed his face and gulped down handfuls of water, tempted to rip his clothes off and submerge himself in the stream instead.

The first day they spent there, it was calm and not one monster could be found. The second day, Dean fought off an unlikely pack of a wendigo, a werewolf and a shifter. Then came the third day.

Dean woke up lazily, back aching from the hard ground but otherwise feeling satisfied with a good night's sleep. Castiel wasn't in sight, so he assumed he was by the stream. He made his way to the stream and saw Cas, squatting on the bank with a blank expression, staring into space like he had lost himself in thought. Dean smiled to himself. It almost reminded him of when he first met Castiel, and how stoic he used to always look. Walking closer, he noticed two slits in the back of his trench coat where his shoulder blades were.

No blood. No remains of a fight. Why did Castiel suddenly have two slits in his coat?

"Cas?"

Eerily, Cas cocked his head to the side and stared at Dean. Dean realised. That wasn't the face of Castiel, and flying... Oh, how he understood what he did. He was freeing himself.

"Cas?!" Dean yelled, hauling Cas up by his arm, "What did you do?"

Cas only winced, "I think I'd like to stay."

"What?"

"I'd like to stay," he repeated, "because I freed myself. I don't need to fly any more."

And Dean couldn't move, and Cas was smiling through the pain but he didn't care because he had freed himself from his Father, from Heaven, from his own grace. He became human, and in doing so he lost the ability to fly. His humanity was his freedom.

And his freedom was to stay.

* * *

**AN:** I saw this gifset on Tumblr, and the text on one of the gifs had something very similar to 'I'd like to stay' and it gave me an idea for this. Not necessarily my interpretation of the season 8 sneak peak, but certainly something angst filled and a spur of the moment. I didn't want to explicitly say it, but basically Cas cut off his wings because as an angel, he would never be able to express himself and be flawed and free to do what he pleases. Reviews are nice. Cool.


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